With a strange indifference, Roman approaches and raises his head in greeting. “Think they already went over everything when you signed up, but do you have any other questions?”
Ethan swings his arms open and closed, bouncing up and down like he’s already in the ring. “He really think he’s gonna win?” he goads. “Your buddy?”
Roman’s gaze flicks over Lexie’s brother as if only now seeing him. “Go to the corner. You’re up. And, uh, good luck.”
“I’m not the one who’s gonna need it.”
Roman’s mouth twitches before his attention falls on me and Lexie, and for the first time in, I don’t know, five minutes?I really wish I could read minds. Wish I could know what he’s thinking. If he knows what happened between me and his friends or how my presence is far from the norm. Does he recognize me from last night?
Probably.
The Harden brothers are full of secrets. With everyone except Roman. They adopted The Drift riff-raff and never looked back. No one knows why. Part of me wonders if the Harden brothers know themselves, or if it was a natural, er, unnatural, decision full of impulsivity, just like the rest of their decisions, or so it seems. Part of me wonders why Roman adopted them back. Why did he turn his back on his neighbors and family and friends for…the Harden brothers? They’re a bunch of spoiled brats who have no idea what it’s like to go without food or what it’s like to be scared to walk home alone or down the wrong path once the sun goes down. Then again, maybe it’s a me and Lexie thing, and less of a Roman thing. He probably gets around just fine, thanks to his muscles and the way he carries himself. Like he could beat the crap out of anyone he wants despite his lack of time in the ring on fight night.
“Stay here,” Ethan warns. He gives his sister a pointed look. It chills me to the bone.
“Good luck,” Lexie returns.
Not bothering to acknowledge her, he turns to me. “Gonna wish me luck, Violet?”
I tack on my same fake-ass smile. “Good luck, Ethan.”
With a wink, Ethan stalks off with his posse in tow toward the spot Roman ordered. Blood splashes onto the mat as one of the fighters falls to his knees, spitting crimson.
How did Roman know the current fight would be ending soon and Ethan would have his moment to shine? I guess when it isn’t your first rodeo, it’s easy to know when someone’s close to tapping out. My focus shifts from the imminent loser to theprobable victor. He winds up again, nailing the guy on the mat and knocking him out cold.
Shit.
“Talk about lights out,” Lexie mutters. “You think Ethan will do the same to Jag Off?”
Maybe.Hopefully?No, that feels wrong. But also, Jag Off did steal five thousand dollars from me, so…
“Where is he, anyway?” Lexie rises onto her tiptoes and searches the warehouse before pulling back slightly and letting her heels hit the ground. It’s like she’s seen a ghost or something.
“You good?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Her brows pull, but she doesn’t say anything else. And her silence? It’s freaking screaming.
I nudge her shoulder. “You sure?”
“There’s three brothers, right?”
Three brothers? What does that have to do with anything? “Are you talking about the Harden brothers?”
“Yeah.”
Curious where she’s going with this, I nod. “Yes, there’s three of them. Why?”
She looks at the ground, but raises her hand, lifting her fingers in a one, two, and three. “The cocky one, the quiet one, and the asshole.”
“Technically, I kind of thought they were all assholes, but?—”
“You know what I mean,” she pushes.
“Okay? Yeah? So?”
“So…” She faces me fully and drops her hand to her side. “I think I found the quiet one.” Her gaze cuts to her left.
Following it, I spot Hawke in the shadows like some creepy stalker. Or Batman. Depends on how you look at it. And speaking of looking…the man’s watching my best friend so intently, I feel like I’m interrupting something. What the hell? So this is why Lexie got all quiet. Seems she has an admirer. Ora stalker. Or both? Honestly, I don’t know, but neither would really surprise me, and neither would be Lexie’s first rodeo, either. The girl works at a strip club, for Pete’s sake. Of course she’s used to dealing with a few less than savory gentlemen, but Hawke is hands down the finest. “Do you know him?” I whisper, as if the guy has superhearing and knows we’re talking about him despite the distance separating us.
